


Trust

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom George, Comfort, Established Relationship, First Time With Each Other, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut, Top Ringo, but it's sweet and cute smut, technically it's smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: George and Ringo may not have any experience with going all the way with each other - or withanyman, for that matter - but they're ready to figure it out together.





	Trust

“This was delicious, Ritchie,” George said as he pushed away his empty salad bowl.

“Why, thank you—I spent hours and hours cooking it,” Ringo teased, earning a laugh from George. “I hope you didn’t mind the light meal.”

“No, not at all.” George _could_ have eaten a lot more food if it had been provided, of course, but no dinner with Ringo could be a bad dinner.

“Good,” Ringo said with a smile. “I thought it might be better to keep the dinner small so we wouldn’t be too tired to do anything else tonight.”

George placed his elbows on the table, then propped up his head on his hands as he gazed at Ringo across the table. “What else did you have in mind for tonight, love?”

Standing up, Ringo walked over to George. He leaned down and tilted George’s head up, bringing their mouths together in a quick kiss. “I dunno,” Ringo whispered, his breath warm on George’s lips. “But maybe we could move over to my bedroom while we decide?”

George inhaled sharply through his nose. Was Ringo suggesting what he thought he was? His mind raced as Ringo led him to the bedroom. It wasn’t like George had never thought about this before—he had thought about it many times, in fact. But it had always seemed like such a far-off fantasy rather than something that could actually happen.

Once they stepped inside the bedroom, however, George’s uncertainty disappeared for the moment when Ringo spun around to crash their lips back together. Caught off guard, George took a step away until his back was against the door.

“You alright?” Ringo asked, his voice low and breathy.

George looked down at where Ringo’s hands were pressed against the door on either side of him, and he swallowed. Something about the way Ringo was trapping him against the door was incredibly attractive. “God, _yes_,” George said, throwing his arms around him and kissing him deeply.

They had kissed so many times before, but _god_ it had never been like this. As Ringo moaned softly into his mouth and stepped forward to completely pin him to the door, George felt his pants grow tighter. He tangled his fingers in Ringo’s hair and pulled him closer, he needed more, more, _more_.

But there was only so much he could take without pausing for air. Tilting his head away slightly and opening his mouth, George gulped in a breath as quickly as he could. Once he had enough air, he started leaning back in for—

Ringo’s lips were back on his before George could even shut his mouth. Naturally, Ringo took full advantage of that and swept his tongue across George’s bottom lip. George instinctively slid his tongue forward to meet Ringo’s, and the new sensations made a moan rise to his throat. He tried to stifle the sound by pressing his mouth harder into Ringo’s.

“No,” Ringo said. “Don’t hide your voice, baby. I love your voice,” he said, running his hand up George’s side, underneath his shirt.

All George could manage in reply was another moan, louder this time. It must have been the response Ringo was looking for, because he slid his hand up higher, lightly grazing his nails across George’s back.

George shivered and clutched at Ringo’s hip for stability, and after Ringo’s hips lurched forward at the touch, George tightened his grip. He moved his other hand from Ringo’s hair to his neck, tracing a small circle with his thumb.

This was _amazing_. George couldn’t remember why he had even been worried about it. He kept relaxing into his boyfriend while Ringo slipped his foot in between George’s legs, inching it forward until his thigh made contact with George’s crotch and—

“Oh, _fuck_.” George forgot how to think as the pleasure coursed through his body. When Ringo pressed against him harder, he cried out again, pulling away from the kiss to rest his head on Ringo’s shoulder, gasping for breath. George rolled his hips forward, craving more of that heavenly pressure, and he soon felt Ringo’s own bulge against his leg….

_Oh_. Stilling his hips, George opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten how _new_ this all was. Ringo was a _man_—and there was nothing wrong with that—but it was unexplored territory for George. He knew his way around a woman’s body, but he had no idea where he was supposed to start with a man. No one had ever taught him how to do _this_.

Ringo, who had been busy planting kisses along George’s jawbone, froze. “George? George, is something wrong?”

Desperately shaking his head, George insisted, “No, I’m fine,” and tried to kiss Ringo again to prove it.

But Ringo stepped away and frowned before George’s kiss landed. “Don’t lie to me—especially not right now. I’m not doin’ anything unless I know you really want it, too.”

George bit his lip and looked down. “I do want it,” he whispered. “I just…I dunno.”

Ringo pulled George into a simple, gentle hug, then grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. “We’ll find something else to do tonight if you’re not ready. I just wanna spend time with you, Georgie.”

Even though he knew Ringo had nothing but good intentions, George tensed. He felt like an inexperienced child next to Ringo—why wasn’t Ringo more nervous about this?

Unless…

“Have you done this before?” George asked.

Ringo gave him a strange look. “’Course I have—so have you.”

“No, no, of course I know that. I meant…with a bloke.”

“…Ah,” Ringo sighed. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“No,” George said, staring at where Ringo was still clutching his hand. “How are you so confident about this? I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Is that what’s got you all bothered?” Ringo asked, looking at him. “I don’t know what I’m doing, either. I was so worried that I’d be a disappointment that I spent half an hour last week asking Brian for advice.” He burst into laughter. “God, that was an embarrassing conversation—one grown man asking another grown man how to stuff a cock up someone’s arse.”

“Jesus Christ,” George said, feeling his face heat up. “So, then, do you wanna—you wanna do that to me? Or me to you?”

“U-um, either way, or neither way—there are other things we could do,” Ringo said, absently playing with George’s fingers.

“It sounds like it would hurt,” George muttered, more to himself than to Ringo.

“Apparently it’s not that bad,” Ringo said. “It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, but then you start to, you know, get used to it, and it’s supposed to feel good.”

It was still a bit difficult for George to believe, but he knew that Ringo would never try to mislead him. And if people were willing to do it over and over again, it _had_ to be good…somehow. “We could…we could try it.”

“You’re sure?” Ringo asked, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Ringo said before pecking him on the lips. “Which one of us should….”

“Mm.” George thought for a moment. Preferably it would work out so that he could focus his attention on enjoying himself rather than worrying about whether he was doing it right. And besides, Ringo _did_ have all that information from his ‘lesson’ with Brian. “If you want to, you could…since you already know how…you could…stick it up there, or whatever.”

“Look at you, gettin’ all shy on me,” Ringo laughed. “You’re sure you want me to do this?”

“Yeah…yeah, I trust you,” George said—and he meant it. With Ringo, he knew he was in good hands…good, strong hands.

Ringo smiled at him. “Alright—but if either of us doesn’t like something, we say it right away.”

George nodded quickly. He was beginning to get anxiously impatient. “C’mon, Ritchie,” he said, leaning in to resume kissing.

When their lips met, Ringo giggled against him as he returned the kiss. This kiss was softer, a reassurance of how much Ringo cared, and George smiled against him.

“You know I love you so much, right, Georgie?”

Sighing, George opened his eyes to find Ringo’s bright blue eyes staring back at him. “God, I love you, too.”

Their mouths reconnected more passionately, but their seated positions on the edge of the bed made it difficult for them to get any closer—until Ringo moved onto George’s lap, straddling him as they continued to kiss. During their conversation, George’s erection had started to fade, but as Ringo pressed back up against him, he felt the pressure rebuilding—and he could feel _Ringo’s_ pressure rebuilding, too.

This time, George wasn’t afraid. He began grinding his hips upward toward Ringo, who moaned George’s name.

“Ah, fuck,” George said when he heard his name coming from Ringo’s mouth like _that_. Ringo looked down at him questioningly, so George clarified, “Like it when you say my name.”

Ringo smirked before reaching a hand around to squeeze George’s arse. “Then give me a reason to say it again.”

George gasped and bucked his hips upward again. _God_, he wanted to make Ringo cry out his name over and over. He lowered his hands to the bottom of Ringo’s shirt and trailed his fingertips along the skin just above his waistband—and smiled when his touch made Ringo’s breathing falter. Sliding his hands up even higher, George lifted Ringo’s shirt off completely and took a moment to admire his boyfriend.

He had seen Ringo shirtless countless times before, but never in such an intimate context. Everything about him was perfect. George delicately traced the scars on Ringo’s stomach, enjoying the way that Ringo began to shiver and blush. He ran his hands higher, gliding over Ringo’s chest and around the back of his shoulders before placing several kisses along his collarbone. When George paused to bite down gently and suck at a particularly soft spot, he got the reward he was looking for.

“Ah, _George_…god, _George_…_George_.”

George didn’t want to stop, but he released his grip on Ringo when he felt a tug at his own shirt. After another second, they were both shirtless and their tongues were back in each other’s mouths. Ringo’s torso felt hot and sticky against him, but George didn’t care. Each time he breathed in, he could smell the deep scent of Ringo’s skin. Never before had George considered sweat to smell good, but there was a first time for everything.

Suddenly, George felt Ringo pushing him backwards, and after a bit of shifting around George was lying down with his head on the pillows and Ringo directly above him. Ringo held himself up without letting his weight fall onto George.

“What are you waiting for?” George asked a bit too harshly—he needed to do better at hiding his impatience.

Ringo lifted one hand from the bed to cup George’s cheek. “I’m just looking. You look beautiful,” he said, running his thumb over George’s lips.

“Thanks, but can we talk about that later?” George asked, fidgeting under Ringo’s gaze.

“What, is Georgie not getting enough attention?” Ringo teased, sliding his hand down over George’s neck, chest, stomach, all the way to the front of his pants where he paused and squeezed—

“Oh _fuck_, Ritchie,” George cried out as his eyes fell shut and his hips snapped upward.

But Ringo didn’t give him a chance to breathe—instead, he pushed down harder and moved his hand back and forth over George’s crotch.

“God, Ritchie, please, _more_.”

Ringo removed his hand, making George whine at the loss. But George stopped complaining when Ringo lowered himself down, grinding his hips against George’s and sucking at his neck.

Breathing heavily, George clutched at Ringo’s hair with one hand as the other slid lower and lower on Ringo’s back until his fingers dipped underneath his pants and onto his arse. “Wanna feel more of you, Ritchie.”

After placing a kiss on the mark he had left on George’s neck, Ringo nodded and lifted his hips so that George could reach the button on his pants. George fumbled around to undo the button and pushed Ringo’s pants down as far as he could reach, leaving his briefs in place.

Looking down, Ringo hooked his thumbs into his own briefs and looked at George, waiting. George bit his lip and nodded. Ringo slowly dragged his briefs downward, then sat up to fully remove the rest of his clothes.

“Oh…my god,” George whispered, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better view. Ringo was flawless, and stunning, and…well…_big_. George tried to stay focused on how gorgeous his boyfriend was, but he couldn’t erase that tiny little worry in the back of his mind about how on earth Ringo would be able to fit inside of him.

He was brought back to reality when he felt Ringo’s hands on his pants, and he let Ringo finish undressing him. Now there was nothing left that was separating them from each other, it was just him and Ringo—and George almost felt overwhelmed by the emotions.

As if he had read George’s mind, Ringo said, “God, George, I can’t believe this is really happening,” as he leaned down to kiss George again. It was exhilarating, the way that their bodies entwined together—so much better than anything George had ever experienced—and, supposedly, they hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet.

“George?” Ringo grunted while they were paused for air.

After leaning up to give Ringo one last swift kiss, George asked, “Yeah?”

Ringo’s hand slid over to the front of George’s hip, slowly inching closer. “Can I?”

George nodded.

And with that, Ringo took George’s length in his hand.

George let out a stream of incomprehensible noises as Ringo began moving his hand up and down. The tension kept building up within George as his breathing became more irregular and he thrusted his hips upward to match Ringo’s strokes.

“I’m—_ahh_—getting close,” George managed to say.

Ringo slowed his hand. “Do you wanna keep doing it this way, or do you wanna try…?”

At the current moment, George was so high on pleasure that he felt like he could do anything. He looked Ringo in the eyes. “Fuck me, Ritchie. Please.”

The look of desire that appeared in Ringo’s eyes was mesmerizing. After a few more strokes, he released his grip and shuffled over to the nightstand to grab something from the drawer. He returned with a condom and a small container.

George watched as Ringo put on the condom, then opened the container and rubbed some of the lube over the condom. The breathy little gasps that escaped Ringo’s mouth as he stroked himself were adorable, and it almost took George’s mind off his returning fear over what was about to happen.

“Ready, George?” Ringo asked as he gently grabbed George’s ankles and lifted them off the bed.

“I think so. Just…go slowly, please,” George said, wrapping his legs around Ringo’s waist.

“I will, promise,” Ringo said as he turned his eyes away from George’s face to look quite a bit lower.

George felt Ringo shift around, and before long he felt something pressing against his entrance. “Oh, god,” he whispered, hoping Ringo wouldn’t hear him.

Amazingly, Ringo really must not have heard him, because his shifted his hips forward the tiniest amount and began sliding into George—

“No no no no wait,” George gasped when he felt the intrusion. Ringo was too big, there was no way he would fit, it was going to hurt, _it’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna hurt_—

“George!”

Suddenly Ringo was lying beside him, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry, George,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have pushed you so much.”

“No no no, you were wonderful, but I can’t—I’m sorry—there’s no way it’s gonna fit—sorry.” George turned his face away, not wanting to see how disappointed Ringo was.

Ringo kissed his cheek and grabbed his hand. “Stop apologizing. Tonight has already been amazing.”

George shook his head. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve Ringo. “I do want to try this with you, I swear. I just wish you were a little bit smaller or something.”

The bed shook as Ringo burst into laughter. “Well that’s certainly the first time anyone’s told me _that_.” He rolled onto his side to face George. “When I was talking to Brian, he said that if it’s a bit too intimidating, it might be good to try it with a finger first. To get used to the feeling. Later on, if you’re ready, we could try that.”

George bit his lip. A finger, huh? That didn’t sound quite so scary. “We could try that right now.”

“No—absolutely not,” Ringo began, but George didn’t want to hear it.

“C’mon, Ritchie, one more try. If I don’t like it, _then_ we can stop. Just once more.” They locked eyes for a few seconds, and George hoped that Ringo could tell he was being truthful.

Finally, Ringo sighed. “One more try. But that’s it.”

“Good,” George said as he pulled Ringo into one more kiss.

Ringo sat back up and moved back between George’s legs. He found the container of lube that he had discarded earlier and added some to his hand, making sure to coat one of his fingers. But before making use of his finger, he shifted forward to press the length of his cock against George’s, taking both of them in his hand. He spent a minute stroking them both together to make up for the momentum they had lost.

Once they were both out of breath again, Ringo released his grip and got back into the position they were in minutes ago. He placed the palm of one hand against George’s inner thigh while his other hand moved toward George’s entrance, his finger gently circling the rim. “Tell me when, George.”

George took a deep breath to steady himself and calm his nerves. “Ready.”

Very, very slowly, Ringo began pushing his finger inside. George took in a small gasp, but made sure to mutter, “I’m fine,” so that Ringo knew how he was feeling. It felt strange—not bad, but strange. “Keep going,” George said each time Ringo paused.

Before long, Ringo’s finger was completely inside, and George still felt alright. “I’m gonna move my finger now,” Ringo said, and George nodded.

Ringo started sliding his finger in and out, and _wow_, that was new—and more pleasant than he thought it would be. The angle of Ringo’s finger changed slightly each time, making each motion a new experience.

But after a minute, Ringo was acting a bit strange. He began leaving his finger inside for a longer period of time and almost wiggling it around inside of George.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Ringo said. “Just trying to find something.”

George lifted his head off the pillow. “What the _hell_ do you mean, you’re ‘trying to find something?’ If you lost a ring up there, I’m gonna kill you.”

“No! God, no,” Ringo laughed. “There’s supposed to be a spot inside of you that feels really good, but I don’t know how to find it.”

“Ah,” George said, letting out a breath of relief. “Well, try not to break anything while you’re up there—_oh_.” George stopped talking when he felt a small rush of pleasure from deep inside of him.

“Something wrong?” Ringo asked.

“I don’t know what you just did, but do it again.”

“Like this?” Ringo asked as he moved his finger again, causing George to gasp and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Yes, yes, right there,” George said as Ringo kept going. There was definitely nothing uncomfortable about it now. The tension was building up again, and he tightened his legs around Ringo. “_Ah_, Ritchie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready now.”

After double-checking, Ringo removed his finger and lined up his cock with George’s entrance again. He gradually pushed his way inside. “Fuck—_George_,” Ringo gasped once he was all the way in. “Feels so good—so tight.”

George was excited to find that _he_ felt good as well. “Then what the hell are you waiting for?—Move, damn it.”

Ringo didn’t need to be told twice—he snapped his hips backwards, then forwards again, finding a comfortable rhythm. He kept calling out George’s name, and when he lifted George’s legs a little higher to find the perfect angle to brush up against that lovely spot inside of George, George started crying out, too.

George couldn’t believe the pleasure he was feeling, even without anyone touching his cock. Then Ringo told him to “touch yourself for me, baby,” and George grabbed his own cock and began stroking and _oh, fuck_, it felt good. It felt so damn good.

As George continued basking in the endless stream of compliments and gasps leaving his boyfriend’s mouth, the pace of Ringo’s thrusts became faster and irregular. “George, I’m gonna—ah—George—oh—_oh_.”

With one final thrust, Ringo collapsed on top of George, still breathing heavily. George moved his other hand to Ringo’s face and brushed his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes to see the gorgeous blush that completely covered his cheeks. Ringo looked completely exhausted, but the smile on his face was unmistakable.

Once he had recovered, Ringo carefully slid back out and sat up. He looked at George, who was still stroking himself, and frowned. Ringo swatted George’s hand away and took his length into his own hand.

George kept one hand tangled in the sheets while the other was tangled in Ringo’s hair as Ringo pushed him closer and closer to the edge. He kept gasping for breath as Ringo worked his magic, and after another minute George’s toes were curling into the sheets as he cried out Ringo’s name.

While George kept his eyes closed and took several deep breaths, he heard the bedsprings creak, followed by footsteps. By the time he had opened his eyes to see where Ringo had gone, Ringo was already returning to the bed. He had removed his condom and was wiping off his hand with some tissues. When he sat back down, he used more tissues to wipe up the sticky mess on George’s stomach.

“George, that was…god, I can’t even tell you how incredible that was,” Ringo said as he threw out the tissues and lay down next to George.

“Me too,” George said as he wrapped an arm around Ringo’s waist to pull him closer.

“We’ve gotta do that again sometime,” Ringo whispered, snuggling up against George.

“Absolutely. And, if you’re up for it, maybe sometime we can try it the other way ‘round?” George asked.

Ringo kissed his cheek. “If it feels as good as you made it look like it does, then we need to try that as soon as possible.”

George giggled, then yawned. “I can’t wait.”

“I love you so much, Georgie,” Ringo said as he drifted toward sleep.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write smut because it always ends up making me feel embarrassed, but then I got this plot bunny and couldn't get the idea out of my head for weeks, haha. I wanted to put more emphasis on their emotional and spiritual bond rather than just the physical bond, so hopefully I accomplished that here. 
> 
> (Also I owe lots of thanks to one of my friends for giving me the encouragement and courage to write/post this, so thank you very much, my darling <3 )


End file.
